Live Nude Poems

Barbed Laughter Barbed laughter from a night of bitter parades: the holy left hanging held in no palms, genuflections to thorned spittled hearts. You heard the tears as they rolled down my cheek, jaundice and frantic. *** In what nightmare will you sleep next turning children’s eyes into cringing stones, their tongues into lonely red carpets? I asked you to pour your pleadings on the wind and scatter their rusty tears up to the sun– light of future cold and will-less destruction. *** You stood over the stillpain on the altar–cries long lost, forgotten curled fingers– and caressed the smiles of lies, stroked the silky manes of illusion. There was a fire there that had never breathed or eaten. Its orange lips cracked, the valleys holding pails of dizzy dying lovers. And you kept singing: Until the end of time, Blood, forgiveness, and laughter Will be mine. David Calogero Centorbi is writing and working in Detroit, MI.  He is the auth...

The Magic was Amazing It felt me up. And I was confused. So I asked the sparrow with the broken wing, “Why does magic feel so cold when it touches my skin?” But all he said was, “Please turn the channel to a new episode, this corner of despair is taken.” I laughed because the cold started scratching down the middle of my back. “Can you hear that?” a voice from the dark asked. “Hear what?” “The sad silly song I’m playing down your spine.” I closed my eyes and listened. Sure enough, I heard it– something like the whispers in between a mummer and a whimper. “Is that what magic sounds like?” I asked. The voice from the dark just sniffed at my question. “Are you deciding if it smells good enough to answer?” I teased. Then the chill got colder. I felt my limbs tighten until I fell stiff as a soup spoon onto the floor. All around me the sniffing sound, the cold getting colder, but I started to feel warmer and warmer, “Until the cold will burn you away,...